


Playing to Win (Ukai x Female Reader)

by DNstories



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Edging, F/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, tied up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28828161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DNstories/pseuds/DNstories
Summary: “Here, (Y/N),” Keishin holds up a Karasuno Volleyball Club jacket for you. “I thought you would like it.”“For me?” you whisper. Your heart gives a little wiggle, causing your chest to tighten and your eyes to well. When had he had time to get one?“You’re part of the team, aren’t you?” He lifts your chin until your eyes meet. His are a deep, dark chocolate brown you could get lost in.“Y-yes, of-of course I am,” you stammer.You feel as though every nerve ending in your body goes electric when he replies in a low voice, so as not to be overheard, “I wonder if you might be our good luck charm today, Little Crow.”Or--You are the temporary faculty advisor while Takeda deals with a family emergency, then become co-advisor in ch 2.
Relationships: Ukai Keishin/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 76





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I made the reader American to gloss over all the things I'll get wrong about Japanese culture. I've only just started the 4th season, so I deliberately placed this between winning the prefecture's tournament and Nationals.

“Excuse me, Ms (Y/Last Name)?”

You look up to see Mr. Takeda, the Japanese Lit teacher. You’ve always been friendly, but as a teacher in the English department, you don’t work together often. “How can I help you?”

“I have a bit of an emergency. My mother fell and broke her hip—I have to go help her.”

You nod—you’d do the same for your mother.

“The thing is that we have a tournament next weekend, and if I’m not back, the boys can’t play. There has to be a faculty advisor on the court. Daichi and Asahi suggested I talk to you.”

Sneaky boys. They knew they were two of your favorite students, and it would be hard to say no. You’ve made a point of attending some of the games to cheer them on. In truth, most of your social life revolves around the school. For whatever reason, the dating apps have not been kind to you—maybe being American is a turn off? Who knows. So you might as well cheer on your third years as they took their last bows on the stage and played their last games. It wasn’t that different to sub in for Takeda—you’d just sit on the court instead of in the stands.

“What’s the commitment?” 

Takeda’s shoulders relax, and he smiles at you. “A few hours after school each day, and the tournament next weekend if I’m not back.”

You glance at your calendar. It’s nearly barren. “I’ve attended some of your matches, but I still don’t know much about the rules of the game. I can’t do what you do.” Takeda seemed to know everything about volleyball when he was on the court, shouting next to the coach.

Takeda laughs. “I knew next to nothing when I started, too. Coach Ukai will help you a lot. And if you want to ignore the volleyball and grade, there’s nothing that says you _have_ to be involved with the sport, especially as my substitute.”

What’s the alternative? Grading at your desk for hours, then going home and watching K-dramas. Well, _Crash Landing on You_ could certainly wait a few weeks. 

“Sure, I’ll do it,” you say.

Takeda invites you to a practice today, as his flight isn’t until tonight. That way he can show you around. You approach the gym, playing with the rings you’re wearing on your right hand as your stomach swoops. It’s ridiculous. You know the third years—Sugawara is also a good kid, if not nearly as diligent in his work as Asahi and Daichi. You’re a little concerned about some of the second years—they’re wild on the court, almost manic. And you’ve watched that red-headed first year, Hinata, jump higher than you could ever imagine doing. Would you be welcomed or something they tripped over?

Sneakers are squeaking against the floor, and voices are yelling, although you can’t quite make out the words. Are you late? You check your watch and it says you’re running fifteen minutes early. The rumor around school was that these boys were in the gym every second they could manage. So if they’d run to change the minute the bell rang, they have probably been playing for a half hour or more. Your face heats up—have you already made a bad impression?

“Ms. (Y/Last Name)!”

You turn to see the team manager, another third year you recognize. “Hello, Kiyoko. I guess I’m already late?”

She smiles. “No, the boys just like to warm up before practice so they don’t have to waste any time. They tend to stay late, too. Don’t worry—we _can_ stay, but we don’t have to.”

The roiling ocean in your gut pauses, then calms.

When you step into the gym, there’s a lot to take in. The boys are doing some kind of drill. A blond girl throws balls to a first year, who then tosses it to a waiting Hinata to hit. Daichi sees you, and gets to his feet. A moment later Asahi and Sugawara join him. They approach you.

“Thanks, Ms. (Y/Last Name). We really appreciate you doing this,” Daichi bows in thanks, the other boys a beat behind.

You look around. Takeda hasn’t arrived yet, but the man you recognize as Coach Ukai is talking to the tall blond first year who helped them win the game that would send the boys to Tokyo. Uncertain of what you should be doing, you stand off to the side and observe the coach. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that he was hot. Wavy blond hair held back by some hair tie. You immediately begin to fantasize what his hair would look like without it.

You were mid fantasy when Takeda arrives and makes a beeline for you.

“Ms. (Y/Last Name) let me introduce you to Coach Ukai.” He leads you over, and you feel your body wake up the closer you get to the blond. “Coach Ukai, this is (Y/Last Name). She’ll be subbing in until I can make arrangements for my mother to recover. (Y/Last Name), this is Coach Ukai.”

He bows his head, while you offer your hand—you could take the American out of the US, but you couldn’t take the US out of the American. He humors you, and takes your hand. His palm is warm, and a little rough. You are unprepared for the sparks that shoot up your arm at his touch. When you let go, you feel a little bereft. You knew it was a risk when you agreed to sub for Takeda. You had been harboring a little crush on Ukai since you first saw him. In truth, you went to volleyball games to watch him as well as the players. He got so passionate, and he obviously believed in his team—what would that kind of passion feel like focused on just you?

Your eyes lock for a breathless moment. Hinata ruins it when he runs up to the two of you.

“Coach! Kageyama is refusing to set for me until I run ten laps for missing the last two sets.” Indignation pours off him.

Ukai rolls his eyes. “Then get to running, Ginger.” He turns back to you. “Let me know how involved you want to be.”

Remembering those sparks, you think, _screw grading,_ and sit next to Kiyoko and Ukai. Ukai radiates a command that the boys all obey instantly. You can picture it used on you in a more intimate setting, and squeeze your thighs together.

Ukai announces the end of practice, but just as Kiyoko had said, most of the boys stay to do extra practice. You glance at your third years. They have an essay due tomorrow—is it done or will they be up through the night? You bite your lip, tempted to say something to them.

“Can I walk you to your car?” Ukai asks.

Surprised, and more than a little flattered, you say yes. Your bag with all the papers to grade feels heavy—how is what you’re doing any different from the boys putting off their work for volleyball? Ukai is quiet at your side for a moment.

“So is this going to work for you?” Ukai asks, looking worried.

You smile. “Yes. I hope I won’t be in the way at the tournament, though.”

“Stay close to me and it will be fine,” he says.

“Coach Ukai—” you begin, face burning as you picture a much more adult way of staying close, his hands sliding under your—

“Keishin,” he says. “Or Kei.”

“(Y/N).” You reply. “Or (Y/Nickname).”

That night, you break the motor in your favorite vibrator thinking of those brown eyes, and that damn headband you want to rip off. He stars in your erotic dreams every night until the tournament.

*********************

Keishin is going to drive the bus to the stadium where the matches will be played. They’re going to play against Aoba Johsai first, followed by Wakutani South, and finally a rematch against Shiratorizawa. It’s just for practice and bragging rights, but the four teams will all play each other and the team with the highest win percentage will win the tournament.

You’ve asked Kiyoko for advice on what to wear, and she’s been very helpful. You’re wearing Karasuno black—black jeans, black t-shirt. You tied your hair back in a no-nonsense ponytail, just as you always did on test days.

“Here, (Y/N),” Keishin holds up a Karasuno Volleyball Club jacket for you. “I thought you would like it.”

“For me?” you whisper. Your heart gives a little wiggle, causing your chest to tighten and your eyes to well. When had he had time to get one?

“You’re part of the team, aren’t you?” He lifts your chin until your eyes meet. His are a deep, dark chocolate brown you could get lost in.

“Y-yes, of-of course I am,” you stammer.

You feel as though every nerve ending in your body goes electric when he replies in a low voice, so as not to be overheard, “I wonder if you might be our good luck charm today, Little Crow.”

Should being called a bird arouse you? Because it totally does. Lacking a good comeback, you let out an embarrassed giggle. He reaches out for your hand, but the moment is shattered by Noya shrieking for him. A regretful look passes over Keishin’s face, and he smiles at you as he turns away.

The games speed by. You’ve learned all their names, and you follow the game as best you can. Keishin is like a live wire next to you. He sits, jumps up to yell encouragement, sits again, will stop and explain something, only to jump up and yell again. You let your loud inner American out to cheer on the boys, but Keishin is just on a whole other level. You can see why the boys follow him with such devotion. You’ve seen in it practice, but when they’re facing down rivals like Shiratorizawa, that leadership and strength hits in an entirely new way. 

You’ll be murdering another vibrator tonight, for sure.

When Karasuno wins—by a set—the boys explode in cheers. While the teams bow and shake hands, Keishin leads you to the other coaches and faculty advisors. They thank you for stepping in, and you feel a little embarrassed. You don’t really feel like you’ve done much, and say as much, waving away the praise. Keishin puts a hand on your lower back as he details what you’ve done—agreed to do this as a favor to Takeda, stayed late at practice, had learned how to toss a ball to Kageyama so he could practice sets, and several other things that you really thought were nothing. You turn red at the praise, and are glad that it’s time to go. Your body is in overdrive, and you’re not sure you can handle much more of Keishin today before you beg him to kiss you. Before you beg him to do much more than kiss you.

Keishin is chatty on the drive back, and your willpower is sorely tested. _Would you like to go out?_ is on the tip of your tongue. There won’t be another opportunity. Takeda is back on Monday. You wish you felt brave enough to throw caution to the wind.

“After we take the boys out to dinner, do you want to grab a drink to celebrate?” Kei tosses it out, and you envy the smoothness with which he asks you. If you’d gotten up the courage, you would’ve stammered through it, staring at the ground.

You glance around to see if anyone else had heard. The boys are three rows away, loud and rowdy, revved up from their win.

“Yes.”

He glances at you and gives you a smile that looks like an invitation to sin. Your body lights up in response. You’ve grown fond of the boys, but right now you would gladly tell them to go away. Dinner will be torture.

Dinner, in the end, isn’t so bad. You choose a seat far away from Kei so as to avoid temptation, but he makes regular eye contact—although nothing inappropriate. You’re joined by the third years. You discuss today’s game and how Ukai had explained some of the plays and the strategy. You tell them what you remember of their playing and why it impressed you. You promise to buy tickets to the Nationals game.

At the end of the night, you give each boy a hug—what can you say? In some ways you’re relentlessly American, and you’ve grown close to them—and wish them well. The boys scatter to their homes, leaving you alone with Keishin.

“Are we still on for drinks?” Kei asks.

“No.” Keishin’s face falls. “Unless you serve drinks in your bedroom.” Your face is burning. You have never in your life been so brazen. But…again…you never have to see him again after tonight so better to shoot your shot, right? Kei blinks, then a smile blooms across his lips, and your body responds with a wave of yearning.

“C’mon,” he says and grabs your hand. He lifts it to his mouth where he places a kiss that just barely crosses the line from friend to _friend_. Your arm breaks out in gooseflesh, and he chuckles at the evidence that his touch has the potential to make your body go bananas. You are led down some road—you could give a fuck where as long as it led to his bed.

_This was really happening._

He takes you to his place, and while he fumbles for his keys in his pocket he eye fucks you relentlessly. You see the same raw hunger on his face as you can feel on yours. No point in hiding it.

“You’re leaning against my door. I think I owe you a kiss, (Y/N), for the inconvenience of asking you to move.”

His eyes drop to your lips. Keishin leans in. Closer. Closer, until he is a hair’s breath away taking your lips in what you are hoping will be a possessive kiss that would make you want to grab him by the hair and guide him down to your pussy to give you an entirely different kind of kiss.

“Can I?”

“What?” In your dazed mind you can’t fathom why he’d ask that.

“Can I kiss you?”

That is the sweetest question you’ve ever been asked. “Yes. Yes, I want you to kiss me.”

Kei’s lips curved against yours, and he leans forward to your ear. “I want to make you so wild—to lose control. Completely. Because I’m going to take you to the edge over and over until you’re ready to give me anything I want because when I decide to be kind, I’m going to let you come. And you’re going to come harder than you ever have in your life. Because you’re not stopping at one, or two, or three orgasms. I’m going to drive you over the edge over and over the same way I edged you. You’ll be a sobbing mess. But only if you feel ready to give me that trust.”

You grab his hips. He pushes you against the door, rolling his hips against you, letting you feel exactly how much Kei wants this. “This okay?” he gasps. You lick a stripe up his neck and he growls in response.

Finally, _finally_ he lowers his mouth to yours. It starts sweet, then Keishin turns up the heat. As his tongue licks into your mouth, his cock grinds against you and you moan. You slide your arms around his neck, while one of his hands fists in your hair, using his hold on you to reposition your mouth, keeping you right where he wants you, the other hand has slid under the jacket and t-shirt to rest on the small of your back. 

“Inside, now,” he breathes, “I’m going to wreck you. Yes?” He looks for confirmation that you are on board for that.

Breathless, you nod. “Yes. I want that.”

You move so he can reach the lock, then as the door opens, he walks you backward through the entrance, kissing all the while. He kicks the door shut and in seconds, your jacket is on the floor, as is his. You finally feel entitled to do what you’ve been longing to do—the headband lands on the jackets.

Keishin looks a little more innocent with his hair down—softer maybe. He pulls the tie from your hair as well and it falls down past your shoulders.

He leads you to his bedroom. You’re too focused on Keishin to really pay attention to the apartment beyond noticing that it is seems cleaner than any twenty-something boy’s house you’d ever been to.

“Guess it’s handy I forgot to make my bed this morning,” he teases, as he lowers you to the futon. 

You give a self-conscious laugh. You’re terrible at putting away your futon. But you can’t remember the last time you invited someone into your bedroom.

“It’s been a while for me,” you whisper.

“Is that going to make it harder for you to come, or easier, Little Crow?” Kei feathers kisses across your face.

You blush. “Easier. I’ve been feeling on edge since the boys left. I don’t want you to think…” Your voice trails off.

“Edging you is going to be so much fun if this is all it takes,” he grins. “Give me your shirt.”

You wish you were the type to wear lace on the regular, but you’re just not that girl. It’s too bad—you have some cute black lacy lingerie, but you only put it on if it’s going to come off soon. You might have imploded from desire if you’d been wearing them all day. Alas, it’s a plain black cotton bra and panty day. At least they match, and at least they’re Karasuno black.

“Gorgeous, (Y/N),” he says as he strokes his thumb over your nipple. You let out a little whine. Kei presses his mouth near your ear and breathes out, “Needy, are you?” 

You let out a gustier whine. “Kei!”

He pulls a bra strap down, pulling the cup down and exposing you to him. When his hot tongue licks over the underside of your breast, you squirm. He smirks at you, then takes your nipple into his mouth. You wonder if it’s possible just to come from Kei playing with your breasts. He undoes the fastening, and the bra is banished to the ground.

You yank off his shirt because turn-about is fair play. His nipples are pierced, something you find irresistible. You’re able to turn the tables a bit when your tongue laves his nipples and toys with his piercings. Keishin urges you to straddle him, and riding the hard ridge of his erection rubbing near your clit has you dizzy with need.

“No coming until I say so,” he reminds you. “If you’re getting close, you have to tell me.”

“Soon,” you whisper.

“I need you naked, (Y/nickname).”

Keishin pulls off your pants and panties in one go. You part your legs to welcome him, and he chuckles. He runs a hand up your inner thighs and you whimper. “Please, Keishin.”

“Please what?” his voice is low and rumbling.

“Lick me,” 

Your eyes lock just before he lowers his head. Desire is written across his face, need matching your own. “Tell me the truth if I’m hitting where you need. I want to please you, not prove that I’m psychic.” 

Once you agree, the first touch of his tongue is heaven. You arch your back in welcome, and moan his name. He grabs your hips and you direct him until he’s licking, sucking, and lightly biting exactly where you want him. All too soon you have to warn him. “Kei, I’m getting close,” you gasp, and even though you knew it would happen, you pout when he pulls away. 

Keishin curls up next to you, and you kiss every trace of your juices from his face. He holds you close, murmuring endearments in your ear as his hands lazily trace your body. 

When your breathing has evened out, Kei reheats the kisses until your hips are rolling. He spears you with two fingers and you keen when his thumb rubs circles on your clit.

“No coming,” he warns before adding a finger.

Mindless with need, you agree. He sucks at your neck, and you hope you remember how to cover a hickey with concealer, while his hand works its magic. When he moves to adoring your nipples, you feel that delicious pressure building. “I—I’m getting close, but don’t stop. Not yet! Just a little more! Just a—Kei,” you moan and whine his name simultaneously. “I wasn’t going to come. I just wanted to get as close as possible.”

“Where you might accidentally come before I say so? I don’t think so.” He lays next to you and guides your hands to his pants. “Show me how much fun you’re having, (Y/Nickname).”

You lick your lips in anticipation as you lower his pants and boxers. His cock makes your mouth water. You lick the head, tasting his salty pre-come. His hand presses on the back of your neck.

“Please, (Y/N).” 

You swirl your tongue around the head of his dick, eliciting groans. As you bob up and down, you force your throat to relax, sucking him down to the root—although your eyes water from his size. Your hands stroke and play with his balls. Keishin’s hand fists in your hair and he fucks your mouth. You rest your hands on his hips and take it, feeling an answering tug between your thighs every time he thrusts in.

He pulls away, “Can’t come before you do, Little Crow.” He kisses away the tears and gives you a lewd, sloppy kiss. 

He takes you to the edge over and over. With his heavenly mouth, his devil hands, or just from getting you to rub yourself against him like a wanton.

“Please, Keishin. Please, no more! _Please let me come. I’ll do anything if you let me come._ ”

“Be…advisor…Takeda,” he says. “I…see you...touch…regular... You… store…I think…volleyball.” His fingers are busy between your thighs, and you’re only hearing some of what he’s saying.

“Yes, whatever you want, yes!” you beg, so far past caring about what you’re willing to exchange for an orgasm that you agree blindly.

“Come for me,” his voice is warm against the curve of your ear, and he nips your earlobe.

The explosion that devastates your body is blinding. Pleasure blurs into pain and back to pleasure. You scream his name as explosions ignite behind your eyelids. It doesn’t stop. As soon as one orgasm begins to ebb, he drives you over the edge again. Again. Again. Again until it all blurs together into endless painful pleasure.

Tears fall from your eyes. “Please, I can’t take any more. I can’t. I—” Your back arches and you twist from side to side. “Fuck me. Please, I need you inside me. I’m so empty. Please.”

“Don’t you want more orgasms?” His index finger teases your clit and you twist your hips away. “Sensitive?” When you nod your head, he laughs. “Good.”

You hear the rip of a condom package. You pant, looking at the ceiling, still recovering from the onslaught of orgasms.

When Keishin positions himself between your thighs, you lift your hips in welcome. Kei laughs. “Hungry for me?” 

“Yes.” You brush away the locks of hair that have fallen onto his face. You love seeing it—love this moment of intimacy.

“I love your eyes,” You blurt out. The color is gorgeous, but the intensity in his gaze makes it feel like he can see down to your deepest desires.

“I love yours,” he purrs. “They sparkle.”

He places your ankles on his shoulders. “Is this okay?”

“Better than okay,” you reassure him.

Bent in half, his cock feels even bigger than it had in your mouth, and you let out a groan. Keishin smirks at you. “You’re so fucking tight. So beautiful, Little Crow.”

His cock hits your g-spot and you groan because no way can you handle another orgasm. He chuckles, and does it again.

“Keishin, I can’t, I can’t,” you protest as he continues his ruthless pursuit.

“I’m going to come, (Y/N) but not until I feel you coming on my cock.”

“I can’t,” you whine.

“You will,” he growls, and sure enough, less than a minute later you’re howling and thrashing under him in the throes of yet another orgasm.

He goes feral, thrusting, pulling all the way out and slamming home, his hand grabs your hair to bring his mouth to yours, communicating in possessive growls. His hips snap against yours.

“So fucking tight!” he moans it. “(Y/N) I’m gonna—” 

His body goes rigid above yours as his hips stutter and he lets out a long groan—your name. 

You drop your ankles from his shoulders and he leans forward until he’s laying on you, still half-hard inside of you. “(Y/N)? Was it—for you?” It’s the first time you’ve heard him sound uncertain. “I know things got intense.”

You cradle his jaw in your hands. “It was good for me. Better than good. Great. Amazing.”

This time your kisses are tender.

“Stay the night?” he asks as he gently cleans you up with a damp washcloth.

You’re so tired, it’s a relief when he asks you. You don’t want to leave the bed. You want to wake up in Keishin’s arms. As you snuggle together, he kisses the top of your head.

“Don’t forget your promise.” Keishin whispers in your ear. “Faculty co-advisor.”

Promises made while mid-orgasm shouldn’t be binding, but you don’t mind agreeing to this one.


	2. Going All The Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After dinner with the team, Keishin meets you at your apartment building. He switched his jacket for a hoodie you’ve seen him wear at the store almost every day.
> 
> “Ukai-san? Planning to call me that in bed?” He teases when you’re walking toward him, searching for your keys.
> 
> “Bold of you to think you’re invited to my bed,” you reply with a wicked smile, as if entry to your bed has yet to be determined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I did a little more homework for this chapter, including honorifics. I kind of assume the American English teacher might be called Ms. (Y/Lastname) the way we called the Spanish teacher Senora Lastname, and the French teacher Madame Lastname in high school. Any mistakes with regards to everything Japanese are mine.
> 
> I don't know if this is going to be a series or what, but I was inspired to add to the story.

When you suggest staying on as faculty co-advisor, Takeda grabs your hand and shakes it.

“Ms. (Y/Lastname), that’s a relief! I was going to ask if that was something you might be interested in doing. They’re asking for female chaperones for team managers at Nationals. Having a co-advisor would be a huge relief—my mother may also need some further assistance. What a great idea—what made you think of it?”

“Honestly? It was nice to do something other than go home and grade. I felt useful, I guess,” you say, then wince. You went and made it weird by oversharing.

“I absolutely understand,” he says with a smile. “Ukai-sensei said you seemed to enjoy yourself.”

_Talk about a double entendre, Keishin. Smartass._

You say with complete honesty, “I really did.”

You spent Friday night through Sunday afternoon with Kei. It’s surprising how natural it all felt. You got to know each other much better than you’ve managed thus far. You’ve never asked a non-volleyball question on the court, and there have only been a few times to get to know each other off the court. As it turns out, you have a lot in common—Karasuno, of course, but also similar taste in superhero movies and food are among the highlights. The two of you learn a lot about your sexual compatibility, as well. Today you are very tired, and parts of you are a little tender after being so thoroughly loved.

After school you feel a little uncomfortable approaching the gym, as you’d just said your goodbyes to the boys on Friday. How would you explain your return?

“Ms. (Y/Last name)!” Daichi, predictably is the first to notice you. The other boys look over, and you give a weak wave. Primarily they look confused as to why you’re there. 

You glance over at Keishin, as this was his idea. As all of the boys are facing you, he offers you a wink and a smirk that only you are privy to. “Listen up. Takeda will need to go visit his mom some more as she recovers, and they want a female chaperone for the girls at Nationals, so I asked Ms. (Y/Last name) if she’d stay on and help.”

“Thank you,” the students chorused. 

“I’m happy to help in any way I can,” you say, putting your bag down. Taking a cue from Kiyoko and Yachi, you have switched into sports clothes—black track pants, indoor sneakers, a t-shirt, and the Karasuno jacket Kei had given you on Friday.

“Ms. (Y/Last name) will you toss balls to me to practice setting?” Kageyama asks. “It will give Yachi a break.”

You spend warm ups tossing volleyballs. Then, once practice begins in earnest, you sit next to Kiyoko as she explains the various positions far better than the website you read during your free period. If you’re doing this, you’re doing it all the way. Maybe she or Kei would know a book to study? It all makes so much sense, though, when it’s the players. Libero—just look at Nishanoya. Jump float—watch Yamaguchi, the pinch server. Middle blocker: over there is Tsukishima. You open a notebook and start taking notes, but adding the boys’ names and numbers is what makes it real and more easily understood.

When practice is over, Kei walks you to your car. “Ms. (Y/Lastname)—what did you think of your first practice as co-advisor?” His face has a practiced look of innocence.

“I don’t know, did it seem like I was having a good time?” You tease him quoting his words back to him.

He laughs. “It definitely did yesterday morning.”

When you’d discovered that while his shower was small, there was enough room for two if you got very, very close. There was also barely enough room for him to fuck you blind against the wall. Which he’d done. Extremely well.

“Are you around after practice on Wednesday?” you lean against your car. You’re not sure what, exactly, this is, but you’re not in a big hurry to figure it out. You’re also not sure what you’re looking for. But Keishin is by far the best date you’ve had since moving here almost a year ago, and you do know you want to hang out with him more, both in and out of bed.

“I have to mind the store. We have a practice game against Nekoma on Friday, though. Can you do something after?” He reaches out, then pulls his hand back. You’d both agreed that nothing would ever happen on school grounds, and that no one at Karasuno needed to know about whatever this was.

“Sure,” you agree. “Want to come to my place? I have lots of exotic American foods—I just got a care package from my sister.”

He agrees, and you make a plan to Facetime each other later. He surveys the parking lot, then leans in to say, “I hope you know how outstanding your ass looks in those pants.”

You smirk and have a little flash of confidence. “I mean, I know how amazing _your_ ass looks, so I thought that was how they were supposed to look.”

He snorts. “You say shit like that and then I’m not allowed to kiss you? Seems pretty sus.”

You roll your eyes and open the trunk to toss your sports bag with your school day clothes in it, as well as the bag with your grading. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Hey, meant to tell you—you’ve joined the free coffee club at Sakanoshita. At least while I’m there in the mornings, if it’s on your way to work.”

You glance back at him, and close your door. “If it is, I’ll take you up on that. There is a dearth of good coffee in my life, and the teacher’s room has some of the worst coffee I’ve ever drank.”

He snickers. “Glad to know I have a low bar. So I’ll get to see your beautiful face at some point tomorrow.”

“You’re going to get sick of me between practice and whatever.” Slick. That was just…slick. Not.

He watches you, brown eyes tracing over inch of you. When your eyes meet, he holds your gaze and shakes his head. “Little crow, don’t be worried. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Dinner that night doesn’t feel so lonely. You grade the exam from last Friday. Which you would’ve done over the weekend—instead you did Kei, so now you need to work. You note with relief that the third years are all doing well in English. You make a note to have the three—possibly four, if Kiyoko’s teacher says she’s ready—of them practice English with you on the subject of volleyball. You can kill two birds with one stone.

You call your sister in Philly to let her know the package arrived, and how excited you are to have some Tastykakes again. Important question—do you like Keishin enough to give him one of your beloved Tastykakes? As you slowly eat one, you tell your sister about volleyball, Keishin, and how the combination of the two has resulted in your new position on the team.

“He can’t be that hot. You’re exaggerating, or your sex slump is making him look good by comparison.”

You promise to send a picture later, if you have one, or to take a picture to send tomorrow. This can’t stand—Keishin’s hotness will not be denied.

“Is he looking for a girlfriend?”

You pause. He hasn’t said anything to say he is or he isn’t. “It’s…undefined…at the moment.”

She bites her lip. “(Y/N), are you so sure about this? You’ve never done casual well.”

You reassure her you’re not exactly looking for Mr. Right. You’re not going to live in Japan forever, after all. (You think? You’re not sure.)

You would’ve predicted Kei might try to get you to strip or something sexy when you Facetime, but you’re pleased when it’s more of the kind of conversation you had over meals. If he was only in it for the sex, he wouldn’t try to get to know you, right? Ugh, your sister’s comment that you’ve never managed to do casual has fucked with your head.

“How’d you get so good at Japanese? You’re pretty fluent, and the light American accent is cute.” He took out his headband and ran his hands through his hair. God, it’s so pretty down.

“My family hosted a Japanese exchange student named Yaomomo when I was in middle school. She started me, and then I took online classes until high school, when I could take it for real. Watched a lot of anime with the subtitles off. I joined a meetup group where we practiced our Japanese with Japanese college students, and then they practiced English. Double major undergrad of Japanese and English. Master’s in education. I did Japanese to English translation for a while to help pay for grad school, although my written Japanese is still incredibly formal and not nearly as good as my spoken Japanese.” You’re a little worried he’s going to think you’re a huge nerd.

“Are you still friends with her?”

“I am! She’s a businesswoman in Tokyo—I convinced her to come see the boys play with her husband and son. He’s eleven and just caught the volleyball bug. They were going to go anyway, but I told her to sit with Karasuno and wear black.”

“Then we’ll have to show her son what a winning team looks like.”

You talk for a while longer, both of you climbing into bed before yawns start to interrupt the conversation.

In the morning you walk into Sakanoshita and are greeted by a wolf whistle from the back of the store. Keishin walks from behind the shelves, and gives you a predatory look that has you feeling like he’s stripping you naked with his eyes.

“Hi.” It comes out a little shyly.

He arches an eyebrow at you. “All I get is ‘hi’? After promising free coffee?”

“Exactly how good _is_ this mythical coffee?” You lift your travel mug.

“It’s the closest thing to Starbucks you’ll get in town,” he says, taking your mug from you. “Follow me.”

At the back of the store is an old school coffee maker. He pours you some, then glances out at the store, and yanks you close for a kiss. “I promise, no one can see.” You melt into the next kisses until your alarm rings—the “get your ass to school before you’re late” alarm.

“I have to go,” you say regretfully. Then, remembering your sister, you raise your phone. “Can I take a picture? I need to defend your honor against my sister.”

That requires an explanation, but in the end Kei pulls you into his arms and takes a picture of the two of you together.

“Text it to me?” he asks.

***

Your pattern for the week becomes coffee and a good morning kiss from Kei at his family’s store, school, volleyball, grading/lesson planning, and talking to Kei at night before bed. Each day your good morning kiss seems to last a little longer. Kei is largely focused on volleyball during practice, although he usually finds a moment here or there to say hi or ask if you’re still on for a call that night. The phone calls are getting longer.

By Friday you feel like you might be burning up from the inside. After school you dash to the changing rooms and put on your gym clothes before finding the bus. Keishin was driving again.

“You must have nerves of steel to drive this thing with a bunch of loud teenagers on it,” you remark.

“I’ve often thought the same thing,” Takeda says as he walks toward the bus.

You spend the hour plus drive to Nekoma chatting with Takeda and Kei. You realize too late that Takeda only calls Keishin “Ukai-san,” or “Ukai-sensei” which is what you remember to call him in the gym in front of the kids. You have called him Kei several times in this conversation, in what can only be considered a massive breach of manners. To call someone their given name without an honorific is to imply that you’re close—and while that’s technically true, it’s not information the two of you want spread wide. You’re careful to call him Coach or Ukai-sensei for the rest of the drive. Hopefully Takeda will chalk it up to your American-ness.

As the game progresses, you glance between your notes and the players. When Kiyoko and Takeda notice what you’re doing, they both lean in and whisper to you to help with your notes.

On the drive back, Kei asks. “Ms. (Y/Lastname), what were you scribbling in your notebook during the matches?”

You blush and explain that you want to understand the sport better. Takeda compliments you, and offers you a few of the books that he used earlier in the year when he was still learning, and you accept gladly.

“Guess you’ve been bitten by the volleyball bug. We should be careful or we’ll lose you to the girls’ team,” Takeda says.

You blush, and start to stammer a reply when Kei speaks up. “Nah, Ms. (Y/Lastname) wants to go to Nationals with us, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you say it without any hesitation. You absolutely want to be there for Nationals, and not just for Kiyoko and Yachi. For the boys. And especially for Keishin. He warned you last night that he is watching matches from schools they’re likely to face at Nationals and that he’ll need a lot of time to study video and formulate a game plan. From anyone else, it would seem like a brush off. But you know him well enough by now to know how devoted his is to these kids. 

After dinner with the team, Keishin meets you at your apartment building. He switched his jacket for a hoodie you’ve seen him wear at the store almost every day.

“Ukai-san? Planning to call me that in bed?” He teases when you’re walking toward him, searching for your keys.

“Bold of you to think you’re invited to my bed,” you reply with a wicked smile, as if entry to your bed has yet to be determined. You decided that he has an open invitation around orgasm 100 or so—or that’s how many orgasms it had seemed like, at the time.

You flirt over dinner, watch him try a Tastykake for the first time—yes, he has earned a Tastykake from your stash—and then he helps you clean up. As he washes the dishes you lean against a counter, watching. You’ve only had a handful of people to invite to your home—your English department colleagues for a night of American food you brought back after Christmas, Yaomomo had come up for a girls’ weekend, your family when they visited Japan, but even then, it was only for a few days—they had wanted to explore more than sleepy Miyagi prefecture. He looks both out of place and perfect in your space.

He glances up to see you watching. A little unsettled to have been caught, no doubt with heart eye emojis in place of your normal eyes, you decide to distract both of you from whatever that could’ve been. You give him a slow onceover.

He hesitates, then says, “See something you like?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll need to see more of it,” you respond. 

He smothers the grin threatening to overtake his face. He nods, seriously, and his hoodie is at your feet in seconds. He follows it with his shirt. You let your eyes linger because wow, is there ever a lot of delicious real estate to ogle.

“Thoughts?” He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“So far, so good. I’m intrigued, but I’m not ready to decide.

The headband hits the floor and his blond locks fall forward. The man knows you love his hair down. You take an unconscious step toward him.

“Turn about is fair play, don’t you think?” He asks, raking your body with his eyes.

You pretend to consider the question. You take your hair down. “It sure is.”

“Have you always been a brat?” He laughs. “The shirt, too, if you don’t mind.”

Decided that you’ve toyed with the man enough (and distracted both of you), you slip off your shirt and bra. His eyes are hungry, but they’re also soft—but you’re projecting, right?

You take him into the bedroom, where your futon already has the sheets turned down. You slide your arms around Keishin’s neck and pull his lips down to yours. Kei wraps his arms around you, sliding his hands up and down your back. You kiss long enough that the outside world is going a little hazy.

Without warning, his kisses turn hot and demanding. Your body falls into chaos as adrenaline crashes up against shock and lust. Your breathing goes ragged—lungs incapable of a full inhale. He catches you when your body sways.

Kei lowers you to the futon, feathering kisses on your neck and along your collarbone. Then he captures your lips again as his hands go to your track pants. You whisper your consent and lift your hips. In moments you’re bare to him.

“Turn about is fair play,” you echo back at him.

He rolls his eyes. He winks as he says, “Just because you fell for that doesn’t mean I will.”

You pretend outrage, and he pins your wrists above your head. Okay. Now this one you’ve imagined more than once, if you’re honest with yourself. You hadn’t quite gotten around to it last weekend for all that the two of you spent a truly impressive amount of time naked.

“How dare you,” you hiss in mock anger.

“Because, Little Crow, what are you going to do? Say ‘no’? We both know that’s not what you want. Let me guess—you want me to pin you down while I have my way with you? Because I’m not really getting ‘outrage’ vibes from you so much as I get ‘yes.’ Which is it, baby?”

Playing the role, you glare at him. Then, slowly, you nod. He gives you a smile that triggers every nerve ending in your body. If this man keeps giving you this kind of 20/10 sex, he will ruin you for all other men. Is there an Ukai Keishin Sex Addicts Anonymous in the prefecture? 

He brings your wrists to your hips to keep them anchored as his tongue slides over your pussy, and you give a low moan. Encouraged, he pushes on. Every time he’s gone down on you, he’s asked you for guidance. You are impressed by how much he remembered and are vibrating from the lack of control. It’s not upsetting you, it’s turning you on. Not knowing where the next touch would be. 

While last weekend he edged you, tonight he goes right into conjuring orgasm after generous orgasm. “See what you get when you’re honest?”

You make a choked cry as your thighs shake as another orgasm crashing you like a tide rolling in wave after wave. “Enough?”

He squeezes your wrists, lifts his head, and asks a question that sends a jolt of electricity down to your oversensitive clit. “Who’s in charge right now, Little Crow?”

“You are.” Your voice is low and breathy

“I say you’re not done.” He lowers his head and you writhe beneath his mouth, begging him. To stop, to keep going, to take you to that place between pleasure and pain. He seems to have picked the final option and when your cries turn from eager to desperate to a confused mix of the two, he trails kisses down your thighs, one hand caressing muscles that were taut and shaking only moments ago while the other pins your wrists together over your abdomen. 

He tells you to roll over, and he repeats the treatment on your back—one hand holding your wrists behind your back, mouth nipping your ass, which causes you to whimper. His free hand maps the planes of your back, and you purr under his ministrations. He squeezes your wrists from time to time, sending a little jolt of excitement that you’re at Keishin’s mercy. Pleasure to pain, aggressive to tender.

“Do you have anything I can use to tie you up?” His mouth is at your ear.

Your half melted brain tries to think. Then you remember the tie you bought as a gift and forgot to send. Kei lets you off the futon and you go to the box you keep in the corner of your room for things you mean to send or take back home. Sure enough, there it is. Guess you’ll have to go find a different gift for that person. You offer it to Kei, who gives you that seductive, evil grin that makes you weak.

When you obediently put your arms over your head, Kei wastes no time threading the silky bonds around your wrists and securing them to the futon frame. Clearly not his first time. You silently give thanks to whatever people helped turn Kei from inexperienced virgin—if he ever was one—to the man securing your bonds.

Once you’re secure he crawls up your body, caging you. “If you can get free, I’ll give you any sexual favor you want. If you can’t, I guess that means you don’t really want to escape.”

You yank your wrists, twisting and turning against the bonds. Kei nips your ear. “Not trying hard enough.”

It’s becoming very obvious that whatever you do, you’re not getting out of the tie. You stop fighting and meet his dark eyes. Are yours just as aroused, pupils blown wide?

“Well?” It’s whispered but no less commanding.

“I don’t want to escape,” you confess. Truth be told, if you had escaped the tie, you would’ve felt let down.

Keishin kisses you, deep and messy and a little dirty. Your arms strain as you instinctively try to move them to wrap around him. You let out a little sound of distress. He meets your eyes and asks “red?” You’d agreed to use “red” if you wanted to tap out of something.

You shake your head and he goes back to kissing you. You try to show your eagerness by kissing back as passionately as you can. You keep struggling against the bonds as you writhe beneath him. One of his knees lifts and nudges between your thighs.

You turn your head, look down towards his knee, then meet his eyes. “Make me,” you say, full of sass. His eyes glint with excitement.

He licks and nips his way from your mouth to your breasts. “Seeing as I have you naked and tied up, I don’t know how you think you’re going to stop me.” He sucks one nipple into his mouth, and you moan as the ache is echoed between your thighs. “See, parts of you have caught on that you belong to me,” he nips your breast, causing another involuntary moan. “But I think your head hasn’t caught up.”

“You’re wrong,” you say, even as your nipples harden under his touch.

“Spread your legs,” he says.

“No,” you say, clenching them together.

He kneels next to you, slides his hands under your thighs and yank them apart. Your breathing, which was already ragged, grows louder. He smugly kneels between your legs. His hands brace them, holding them down and wide apart.

“I don’t think you mean no,” he says. A finger slides into your soaking pussy, not nearly enough for your hunger. It comes out covered in your arousal. “This says yes. Admit you want me.”

“I don’t…” Your protest is weak.

He opens your bedside drawer and reaches for the condoms you’d bought at his store. He’d given you a lazy grin before adding a second package to what you’d bought, “on the house.” There had been something almost illicit in your shared secret.

He slides one on and his cock nudged your opening. “C’mon, little crow, admit you want it, and that you belong to me, and I’ll give you my cock.”

“I don’t,” it’s a whisper against his lips as your hips lift.

He slides in just a little. “You sure about that?”

“I— I—” you’re not sure if the game has fallen apart or if it’s the right thing.

A little more. “Little crow.”

“Yes,” you whisper. “I’m yours.”

He surges forward and you gasp, unprepared. You fight the binding, desperate to hold him, and the bastard laughs. “You’re at my mercy, (Y/N).” He moves to your ear and in a low rumble he adds “and we both know you want to be.”

He caresses your face as he slowly pumps in and out—slow, lazy movements, too slow for what you want. What you _need_.

“Kei,” you whimper. “Harder.”

He takes your mouth in a dizzying kiss, and his cock slams home, making you shriek again. He does it over and over until you’re pleading that he fuck you hard and fast.

“Well, I suppose you’ve been a good girl for me, taking my cock so well, looking so gorgeous all tied up,” he pretends to muse it over. Then he sets a demanding pace. You arch your hips to meet his thrusts, while his mouth feasts on your neck.

“Fuck, Kei, you feels so good! I want you,” you moan. The familiar pressure builds as you arch against him, faster and faster. His teeth scrape your neck as his thumb and forefinger tease a nipple. The orgasm hits like a tsunami, obliterating everything in its path. You are devastated from your bound hands to your curling toes.

Kei fucks you through another orgasm because the man has g-spot gps. Then his mouth takes yours until you feel his rhythm stutter, and he groans your name.

After collapsing next to you, he reaches up and undoes the tie. “You should keep this around. That was fun,” he’s still a bit breathless. He kisses your wrists. “You did so good, little crow,” he murmurs, kissing the top of your head.

You drift off to sleep in Kei’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently writing two HotWings fics (My Hero Academia) on Ao3, and a book irl. I don't want to promise a specific update schedule. 
> 
> Subscribe to know when the next chapter releases.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are always welcome.
> 
> Chapters will be added as inspiration hits. Subscribe to see new chapters as they're added.


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